


Bookworms

by Malind



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Fluff, Other, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24031609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malind/pseuds/Malind
Summary: Spencer comes into your little bookshop.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 122





	Bookworms

**Author's Note:**

> Spencer is too cute. I love him in the show. Just had to write something to give him some love. <3

You look up from the computer screen when the bell above the door jingles. A smile briefly reaches your lips, matching Spencer’s, before you force yourself to look away. No matter how fascinating you find him, you know from past experience that he doesn’t like to be stared at.

Chasing away a paying customer is never a good thing in this day and age of everything going digital. Especially a regular customer who comes in every couple of weeks or so almost like clockwork. Even more so one who doesn’t seem to care how expensive the book is if he wants it.

So, you keep entering the search data, clicking on links, searching for a specific book for a wealthy client who often uses your expertise in finding rare books for her. You can’t remember how she came about your name years ago but that doesn’t really matter. Her money is good and helps keep your small used and antique bookshop, your real passion, open. 

This bookstore had been your parents. You’d grown up in this place, practically raised here when you weren’t in school and then homeschooled here throughout high school when your parents realized that what you were getting in public school just wasn’t good for your mind or body. And you’d agreed wholeheartedly.

In the bookshop, you’d been able to complete your studies in two and a half years instead of four. You’d started taking college classes early, mixed in with your high school studies. 

That was years ago. At this point, you’ve pushed through a couple of master degrees in history and literature with the end goal of being a researcher for local museums. But, in the end, you’d realized you were just happier here in this little shop, especially after your parents passed away in a car accident. Of course, the idea of completely losing this place, too, had also just been just too much to bear.

Besides, you still get to research, get to work with clientele who are, for the most part, wonderful. And you get to have some interesting conversions. 

...With certain people. Your eyes flick up and notice Spencer has already made his way to the new-arrivals shelf. He scours through the words on the spines like he’s just running his finger along them to enjoy the texture of leather, cloth, and cardboard, like a child would run a stick over a fence. But he’s reading what’s there, each and every word of it. If you ask him after he’s done which books were there, he’ll be able to recite every title and author without a thought. He’s done it for you before because, at the time, you hadn’t believed him.

Along the way down the selection of books, Spencer pulls out a couple of books before making his way to the counter. You lift your gaze to him again and smile at his smile. You can’t help but admit to yourself that you love his soft, cautious smiles.

“Hey. Were you able to find that book for me yet?” he asks.

You look at the screen, more habit than anything as you think back, before refocusing on him, putting your elbows on the counter as you lean forward. “No, I haven’t. Sorry. There were only a few hundred copies ever printed. I haven’t been able to find a collector yet who’s willing to give one up.”

His smile twitches fuller for a moment with his forgiveness. ”No, it’s all right. But I’ll get these.” He pushes the books closer and then digs out his wallet.

One is a book on ancient religions. The other is a collection of old English poetry. Both were published in the 1800’s. They’d come from an estate sale. You’d gotten a pretty good deal for the whole lot.

You raise your brows at him. “Poetry? Usually you’re all doom and gloom and death.”

Spencer laughs nervously. More nervously than usual. It has you frowning slightly. You can’t help but wonder if something is wrong. “There’s several in there I don’t have yet.”

“You sure? You didn’t even open it.”

The man opens his mouth, looks down at the book, and then back at you. “Pretty sure.”

You smile harder, trying to force your frown away. “You sure you want it? You’re not required to buy anything when you come in here, you know.”

“No, I want it. I do. How much?”

“Umm…” You ring up the price, and he’s already handing you his credit card. He seems to want to get out of there much quicker than usual. Not that he ever stays long. You do your best to shrug it off, swipe his card, and hand it back to him.

Spencer shoves it back into his wallet and puts the wallet into his back pocket again before looking at you. And he’s looking at you like… like he wants to say something, his mouth working slightly at words that just won’t come. You find your frown coming back as the moment draws out.

“What?” You ask after a few seconds, unable to help it. You’re starting to get worried again.

“I was…” He clears his throat, slight color coming to his cheeks. “I was wondering if you’d like to, ah, get a coffee or something. I mean, not right now. But when you’re done. You know, when the store closes.”

You blink at him after he’s done fumbling through his words, admittedly shocked by his forwardness, let alone him asking you to do something outside the store with him. It’s not like it’s a date or anything. Right? But it’s still… not at all what you’d expected him to say.

“If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine,” he bumbles on, grabbing the books.

You put up a hand when you realize he’s about to run for it. “Wait. Yeah, I’d love to.”

His brows jump up before he smiles hard. “Really. Tonight?”

You smile back just as hard. It’s starting to hurt your face. “Yeah, sure. I’m closing the shop at eight.”

Spencer’s whole upper body nods as his smile grows even farther as he backs up. “Great. I’ll be here. Right on time.” He backs up right into the table behind him. It makes him jump slightly before he looks behind himself and realizes what he hit. He looks back at you and clears his throat again and then smiles sheepishly. “Tonight.”

If it’d been the other way around, you probably wouldn’t have performed much better. So, you keep your smile and nod. “Tonight.” And you watch him leave the store, admittedly with butterflies in your stomach. 


End file.
